Back Up Off Me
As you can tell from my mood indicator, I am pissed. (Ain't that thing the cutest?) I have no clue why-okay that's a lie. I'm mad as hell and there is a very good reason for it. Right now, I'm talking to Batman so I'll be back in a flash.
....And I'm back.
So anyway, my baby bro calls me up and tells me he's having a problem with a bully. Here's how the conversation went:
Bro: I'm gonna take this from Shrek 2. I need someone...taken care of.
Me: Word? What happened?
B: This kid in my class. It's getting out of hand.
M: Who I got to bat down this time?
B: Anthony. *Name has been changed to protect the victim.
B: (pause) You're not going to beat him up are you?
(Here I became quite confused. I thought that was the whole point of "taken care of." What the hell am I supposed to do, give him a hug?)
M: What do you want me to do?
B: Just handle it.
(I am even more confused. I thought by "handle it" you meant do me. By do me, I mean go find the aluminum and bat old boy to a bloody pulp. Two words: The Untouchables.)
M: You want me to talk to him?
B: Whatever just get him off my back.
(I threw my hands in the air at this point. He knows that by asking me to "take care of it" or "handle it" or "get him off my back" that's an instant beat down for said bully. To bash or not to bash. That is the question. So many choices, so little time.)
M: Alright, I'll take care of it.
B:Thanks.
We hang up.
So now I have to formulate a way to get this kid off his back. Without violence. I didn't know there was any other way. I always thought that one good hit in the face was the answer to all problems. I'm racking my brain here. (Suggestions are welcome, ya'll all know my home number.) I haven't had a good fight in a while and the minute he said he didn't want him beat up, my world was shattered. My brother is such a peace loving person. I can't see how he could make it through life without at least one good KO under his belt.
I called up my mama to discuss this with her. She heard about the first time I "handled" a bully and ever since then I have been the resident azz kicker. She thinks I should handle it with words. WHAT?!?!?! What did Capone say in the aforementioned Untouchables? "You can get farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with just a kind word." No truer words have ever been spoken. I have my .45's on layaway. And they're so pretty too. I'll show you later.
My mother proceeded to formally diagnose me and in her professional opinion, she firmly believes that I am an "anti-social psychotic psychopath with pyromaniac tendencies." That hurt. The pyromania she was right on point with (I have this thing for fire) but psychotic? Psycopath? (Notice I'm not denying the anti-social part) She firmly (along with the majority of my family) believes that I am mentally unstable. There are good reasons why, which I will discuss in another post, but I really don't think all of that was necessary. She proceeded to tell me that denial wasn't just another river in Egypt and that admission was the first step to recovery.
As dysfunctional as they are, I love my family.
(Monica, I'll be posting Part Five of Ain't Gold tonight.)
RIP Rosa Parks 1913-2005
Cam, I love you to death and wish you all the best, but you know better than to be driving your Lamborghini around in ghetto azz Washington DC. Just because that's where the White House is doesn't mean niggas know how to act. xo
....And I'm back.
So anyway, my baby bro calls me up and tells me he's having a problem with a bully. Here's how the conversation went:
Bro: I'm gonna take this from Shrek 2. I need someone...taken care of.
Me: Word? What happened?
B: This kid in my class. It's getting out of hand.
M: Who I got to bat down this time?
B: Anthony. *Name has been changed to protect the victim.
B: (pause) You're not going to beat him up are you?
(Here I became quite confused. I thought that was the whole point of "taken care of." What the hell am I supposed to do, give him a hug?)
M: What do you want me to do?
B: Just handle it.
(I am even more confused. I thought by "handle it" you meant do me. By do me, I mean go find the aluminum and bat old boy to a bloody pulp. Two words: The Untouchables.)
M: You want me to talk to him?
B: Whatever just get him off my back.
(I threw my hands in the air at this point. He knows that by asking me to "take care of it" or "handle it" or "get him off my back" that's an instant beat down for said bully. To bash or not to bash. That is the question. So many choices, so little time.)
M: Alright, I'll take care of it.
B:Thanks.
We hang up.
So now I have to formulate a way to get this kid off his back. Without violence. I didn't know there was any other way. I always thought that one good hit in the face was the answer to all problems. I'm racking my brain here. (Suggestions are welcome, ya'll all know my home number.) I haven't had a good fight in a while and the minute he said he didn't want him beat up, my world was shattered. My brother is such a peace loving person. I can't see how he could make it through life without at least one good KO under his belt.
I called up my mama to discuss this with her. She heard about the first time I "handled" a bully and ever since then I have been the resident azz kicker. She thinks I should handle it with words. WHAT?!?!?! What did Capone say in the aforementioned Untouchables? "You can get farther with a kind word and a gun than you can with just a kind word." No truer words have ever been spoken. I have my .45's on layaway. And they're so pretty too. I'll show you later.
My mother proceeded to formally diagnose me and in her professional opinion, she firmly believes that I am an "anti-social psychotic psychopath with pyromaniac tendencies." That hurt. The pyromania she was right on point with (I have this thing for fire) but psychotic? Psycopath? (Notice I'm not denying the anti-social part) She firmly (along with the majority of my family) believes that I am mentally unstable. There are good reasons why, which I will discuss in another post, but I really don't think all of that was necessary. She proceeded to tell me that denial wasn't just another river in Egypt and that admission was the first step to recovery.
As dysfunctional as they are, I love my family.
(Monica, I'll be posting Part Five of Ain't Gold tonight.)
RIP Rosa Parks 1913-2005
Cam, I love you to death and wish you all the best, but you know better than to be driving your Lamborghini around in ghetto azz Washington DC. Just because that's where the White House is doesn't mean niggas know how to act. xo
posted by Jacki Simmons at 2:00 PM
1 Comments:
Umm so how are you gonna "handle" the problem... and waiting on Aint Gold :)dont worry I have patience (i think)
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